Monthly Archives: April 2013

Missed Fortune Kitty

When The Boy and I went the California last fall, I bought three tiny fortune kitties in China Town. When I say tiny I mean all three had plenty of elbow room sitting on a quarter together.

Once I got home I set them up on the shelf on my desk in my office. One day, while Obi was showing me how well he doesn’t fit between the monitors and the wall, one of the kitties fell of the shelf. Before I had a chance to react, Obi pounced and scooted the kitty off my desk and onto the floor.

And he’s gone.

The kitty, not my brown kitten.

I can not find that fortune kitty anywhere. I’ve moved the rug. I’ve gotten a flashlight and checked under all the furniture. I’ve swiped the magic toy making stick under everything. And, wherever he is, he got lost in the seconds it took me to save the other two fortune kitties, scold Obi, and crawl under the desk.

So the questions:
Is it bad luck to lose a fortune kitty or do you just lose the luck you would have gotten? And if it is bad luck…whose luck is it?


In the Bag

Last week, Oliver got a new bag. He still doesn’t know it is a bag because he keeps rolling on it whenever I open it up.

But he does know that THIS one is a bag.


Obi says one bag? That’s for amateurs.


You’re Never Alone

On the mommyblogs there are often posts about the loss of privacy when children arrive in the house. I say people with cats are used to it. I was putting towels away when I took these particular photos, but it is a pretty common theme no matter what I’m doing in the powder room.


“Need any help?”


“Oli took my spot on the shelf.”


“That’s better.”

Kittehs Gotta a Brand New Bag

For work today, I had to go shopping. Since I spent the afternoon outside of the house I had to bring the kittehs a present.




Oliver loves it. He’ll like it even more when he figures out it is a bag.

Armpit to Legpit

As always, going on vacation means a lot of work on weekends and evenings. So Kitten Thunder supervised while I worked at the desk all afternoon.

They watched from the condo.

They watched from the director’s chair.

They watched from the bed.

When The Boy started cooking dinner, he needed something in the kitchen that was hiding after the remodel. I helped him. On the way back to my desk I detoured over to the bed.

“Mr. Pi,” I said to Oliver, “I am going to rub that fuzzy belly.”

The grey kitten thought this was a fine idea. He rolled onto his back and stretched as far as the bed would support him – his back feet touched the wall and he stretched his head and arms off the other side.

If you’re going to rub, he indicated, you should do it right.

I ran my fingers from his armpits, down his belly to his legpits. Then I ran them back up his belly, clear up to his little white chin. I continued this for about five minutes. If you’ve ever seen the video of the slow loris getting tickled you’ve witnessed one tenth of the ecstasy Oli was experiencing.

There was much giggling over the cuteness. The Boy came in to see what was so funny.

“You’re a silly boy, Oli,” said The Boy. He gave the white belly a quick scritch before returning to the spaghetti. 

I’m a lucky boy, Oliver’s look said.

As these things happen, though, the good became too good. Suddenly my hand was caught in the teeth and arms of a grey kitten and he was bunny kicking with all his might. I put him in The Claw, scooped him up and gave him kisses until he begged for mercy.

Obi wanted in on the action until I grabbed him and started kissing him. Then he felt like The Boy needed supervision. Fast.

Dinner was ready and I went to wash my hands.

Oliver went to wash…everything. Nothing wraps up a good snuggle/play/love better than a good bath.

The Strong, Silent Type

First, a word from our sponsors:


Ta daaaaa! Kitchen floor, counters and sink, complete. The water tasted a little bit like rubber hose for a few days but now we’re good. We are now working on convincing the kittehs that white counter rules still apply to brown counters.

And, now that Obi has been under the sink he wants to be under there all the time. It is almost like he hadn’t made the connection between the bathroom sink with cupboards and the kitchen sink with cupboards.

Long story short, we have to install baby locks on the kitchen cupboards.


I was kitteh sitting for Mona’s cats, the handsome Gabe and the beautiful princesses, Gus and Jenny, one night this week. After they’d eaten, I was washing off their plates and saw one of the girls sitting on the landing of the stairway.

“Are you done with your dinner, pretty girl?” I asked. “Last call.”

She said nothing so I rinsed the last plate and babbled to her as I put it in the dishwasher and straightened the kitchen. She said nothing back. She just sat there. Then, as I was headed down the stairs to scritch Gabe’s ears one last time before leaving, I realized I wasn’t talking to a cat at all.


Tricky. Very tricky.

How Many Trips to Home Depot…

…does it take to plumb a sink? We don’t know yet. So far we’re at two.

Due to a misunderstanding between our contractor and me, we have been without a kitchen sink for three days longer than necessary. He thought I was hiring a plumber. I thought he had one on staff.

But! The Boy can plumb.


With the help of Kitten Thunder, of course.






We have running water! The Boy is still working on the side with the garbage disposal so a final picture, and stories of teaching the cats that the brown thing IS TOO counter, will be coming on Thursday.


Everyone is talking about Boston on the blogosphere. My aunt was running and my mom was near the finish line. They are okay. I send my thoughts out to those who were not so lucky. And I send my thanks out to the locals who helped. From the lady who pulled my mom and others into her apartment, to the organizers who guided runners to their evacuated families, and the hotel staff who welcomed them “home” that afternoon. My whole family loves you, Boston!


We’ve come one more step closer to being done with the kitchen improvements. The large part of the counter is installed, with the new undermounted sink.

The kittens, once again, found a way to not be on the counters.


Kissing Friday

At 4 a.m., Obi was bored. He started his usual bored routine, pulling the cupboard open in the bathroom and – because we installed baby locks the day after he locked Oliver in the cupboard – letting it bumpbumpbump closed again.

“Obi, stop.”

At 4:20 a.m., Obi was bored. BumpBumpBump.

“Obi. Stop.” BumpBumpBump.

He could not be convinced, verbally, to stop playing with the cupboard. I got up, removed him from the bathroom, and shut the door. Now everyone with cats is thinking that THIS didn’t work. You just can’t have closed doors in a house with cats. But, surprisingly, no one cared.

At 4:45 a.m., Obi was bored. He went to his secondary bored action of playing with the blinds over our headboard. After the strings hit me in the head the tenth time I reached up, grabbed the brown kitten, kissed his head and sent him on his way.

At 5 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:05 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:10 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:15 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:18 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:30 a.m., Oliver was hungry. He jumped onto my should to see why I wasn’t paying attention to him. “It isn’t time yet,” I said. As he turned to leave, his foot slipped and jammed into my eye. His grey body went thump against the wall and then thump on the floor when instinct made my arm flail and send him flying.

At 5:32 a.m., I had a sore, watering eye. And a lot of guilt.

At 5:35 a.m., Oliver was hungry. This actually made me feel better because it meant I didn’t hurt him.

At 5:42 a.m., I decided I might as well get up because I needed to be downtown at 6:30 a.m., anyway.

At 5:45 a.m., moving slowly and picking up both kittehs to deliver passive-aggressive kisses, I arrived in the kitchen to feed them.

At 6:15 a.m., I was out the door.

There were meetings all day. And there was work to do.

At 4:45 p.m., Oliver and I finally met on the couch for the post-breakfast snuggle. Then there was more work to do.

At 10:13 p.m., I will publish this post.

At 10:17 p.m., I will be in bed. Asleep. And hoping for a better start to tomorrow.

And Then It Snowed.

We were expecting a huge amount of snow overnight. We only got four inches, not anything to talk about in Wyoming in April. When we were still anticipating, my boss (me) decided we would wear jeans today even if we still had meetings to go to today.

This morning, The Boy not only had to go to work but had to go early. No snow day for us. Oliver, though, decided we should have a delayed start.


And then it snowed.

As I was finishing up my coffee, I received a call about getting counters installed. I threw on some clothes and went out to shovel our walks for the counter guy. Jeff, from Jeff Channel fame, was also shoveling. The Boy and I are going to Croatia this spring and Lori isn’t available for kitteh sitting the whole time (has to go to Yellowstone for “work”). I asked Jeff if he would be willing to make a celebrity appearance.

He agreed.

And then it snowed.

The counter guy arrived and had to shovel again before bringing stuff in.


There is more to do tomorrow and Thursday, but then we’ll have a kitchen again! I have never realized how much I love my kitchen sink. It is wrong to use water from the bathroom to cook.

The kittens helped by inspecting the sink.


And then it snowed.

While the counters were being installed, I worked on jewelry for my friend Angie. She sent me a bunch of rocks to work with. Here’s Obi helping with my photography efforts.


And then I rammed my pliers into my hand and bled. A lot. And then it snowed. A lot.

One of my clients closed early so I didn’t have to go in.

And then it snowed.

My hair stylist called and cancelled our appointment.

And then it snowed.

The City closed its offices and The Boy came home.

And then it snowed.


The striations are kind of cool. By counting the rings we can see that this storm is 12 snow years old.

And still it snows.